CHAPTER VIII.

DECLINE OF THE JUDICIAL COMBAT.

So many influences were at work in favor of the judicial duel, and it was so thoroughly engrafted in the convictions and prejudices of Europe, that centuries were requisite for its extirpation. Curiously enough, the earliest decisive action against it took place in Iceland, where it was formally interdicted as a judicial proceeding in 1011;[662] and though the assumption that this was owing to the introduction of Christianity has been disproved, still, the fact that both events were contemporaneous allows us to conclude that some influence may have been exercised by even so imperfect a religion as that taught to the new converts, though the immediate cause was a _holm-gang_ between two skalds of distinction, Gunnlaug Ormstunga and Skald-Rafn.[663] Norway was not long in following the example, for about the same period the Jarls Erik and Sven Hakonsen abolished the _holm-gang_, while paganism was as yet widely prevalent.[664] Denmark was almost equally prompt: indeed Saxo Grammaticus in one passage attributes to it the priority, asserting that when Poppo, in 965, converted Harold Blaatand by the ordeal of red-hot iron, it produced so powerful an effect as to induce the substitution of that mode of trial for the previously existing wager of battle.[665] Yet it evidently was not abolished for a century later, for when Harold the Simple, son of Sven Estrith, ascended the throne in 1074, among the legal innovations which he introduced was the substitution of the purgatorial oath for all other forms of defence, which, as Saxo specifically states, put an end to the wager of battle, and opened the door to great abuses.[666]

Fiercer tribes than these in Europe there were none, and their abrogation of the battle trial at this early age is an inexplicable anomaly. It was an exceptional movement, however, without results beyond their own narrow boundaries. Other causes had to work slowly and painfully for ages before man could throw off the bonds of ancestral prejudice. One of the most powerful of these causes was the gradual rise of the Tiers-État to consideration and importance. The sturdy bourgeois, though ready enough with morion and pike to defend their privileges, were usually addicted to a more peaceful mode of settling private quarrels. Devoted to the arts of peace, seeing their interest in the pursuits of industry and commerce, enjoying the advantage of settled and permanent tribunals, and exposed to all the humanizing and civilizing influences of close association in communities, they speedily acquired ideas of progress very different from those of the savage feudal nobles living isolated in their fastnesses, or of the wretched serfs who crouched for protection around the castles of their masters. Accordingly, the desire to escape from the necessity of purgation by battle is almost coeval with the founding of the first communes. The earliest instance of this tendency that I have met with is contained in the charter granted to Pisa by the Emperor Henry IV. in 1081, by which he agrees that any accusations which he may bring against citizens can be tried without battle by the oaths of twelve compurgators, except when the penalties of death or mutilation are involved; and in questions concerning land, the duel is forbidden when competent testimony can be procured.[667] Limited as these concessions may seem, they were an immense innovation on the prejudices of the age, and are important as affording the earliest indication of the direction which the new civilization was assuming. More comprehensive was the privilege granted soon afterwards by Henry I. to the citizens of London, by which he released them wholly from the duel, and this was followed by similar exemptions during the twelfth century bestowed on one town after another; but it was not till near the end of the century that in Scotland William the Lion granted the first charter of this kind to Inverness.[668] About the year 1105, the citizens of Amiens received a charter from their bishop, St. Godfrey, in which the duel is subjected to some restriction—not enough in itself, perhaps, to effect much reform, yet clearly showing the tendency which existed. According to the terms of this charter no duel could be decreed concerning any agreement entered into before two or three magistrates if they could bear witness to its terms.[669] One of the earliest instances of absolute freedom from the judicial combat occurs in a charter granted to the town of Ypres, in 1116 by Baldwin VII. of Flanders, when he substituted the oath with four conjurators in all cases where the duel or the ordeal was previously in use.[670] This was followed by a similar grant to the inhabitants of Bari by Roger, King of Naples, in 1132.[671] Curiously enough, almost contemporary with this is a similar exemption bestowed on the rude mountaineers of the Pyrenees. Centulla I. of Bigorre, who died in 1138, in the Privileges of Lourdes, authorizes the inhabitants to prosecute their claims without the duel;[672] and his desire to discourage the custom is further shown by a clause permitting the pleader who has gaged his battle to withdraw on payment of a fine of only five sous to the seigneur, in addition to what the authorities of the town may levy.[673] Still more decided was a provision of the laws of Soest in Westphalia, somewhat earlier than this, by which the citizens were absolutely prohibited from appealing each other in battle;[674] and this is also to be found in a charter granted to the town of Tournay by Philip Augustus in 1187, though in the latter the cold water ordeal is prescribed for cases of murder and of wounding by night.[675] In the laws of Ghent, granted by Philip of Alsace in 1178, there is no allusion to any species of ordeal, and all proceedings seem to be based on the ordinary processes of law, while in the charter of Nieuport, bestowed by the same prince in 1163, although the ordeal of red-hot iron and compurgatorial oaths are freely alluded to as means of rebutting accusations, there is no reference whatever to the battle trial, showing that it must then have been no longer in use.[676] The charters granted to Medina de Pomar in 1219 by Fernando III. of Castile, and to Treviño by Alfonso X. in 1254, provide that there shall be no trial by single combat.[677] Louis VIII. in the charter of Crespy, granted in 1223, promised that neither himself nor his officials should in future have the right to demand the wager of battle from its inhabitants;[678] and shortly after, the laws of Arques, conceded by the abbey of St. Bertin in 1231, provided that the duel could only be decreed between two citizens of that commune when both parties should assent to it.[679] In the same spirit the laws of Riom, granted by Alphonse de Poitiers, the son of St. Louis, in 1270, declared that no inhabitant of the town should be forced to submit to the wager of battle.[680] In the customs of Maubourguet, granted in 1309, by Bernard VI. of Armagnac, privileges similar to those of Lourdes, alluded to above, were included, rendering the duel a purely voluntary matter.[681] Even in Scotland, partial exemptions of the same kind in favor of towns are found as early as the twelfth century. A stranger could not force a burgher to fight, except on an accusation of treachery or theft, while, if a burgher desired to compel a stranger to the duel, he was obliged to go beyond the confines of the town. A special privilege was granted to the royal burghs, for their citizens could not be challenged by the burghers of nobles or prelates, while they had the right to offer battle to the latter.[682] Much more efficient was the clause of the third _Keure_ of Bruges, granted in 1304 by Philip son of Count Guy of Flanders, which strictly prohibited the duel. Any one who gave or received a wager of battle was fined sixty sols, one-half for the benefit of the town, and the other for the count.[683]

The special influence exercised by the practical spirit of trade in rendering the duel obsolete is well illustrated by the privilege granted, in 1127, by William Clito, to the merchants of St. Omer, declaring that they should be free from all appeals to single combat in all the markets of Flanders.[684] In a similar spirit, when Frederic Barbarossa, in 1173, was desirous of attracting to the markets of Aix-la-Chapelle and Duisbourg the traders of Flanders, in the code which he established for the protection of such as might come, he specially enacted that they should enjoy immunity from the duel.[685] Even Russia found it advantageous to extend the same exemption to foreign merchants, and in the treaty which Mstislas Davidovich made in 1228 with the Hanse-town of Riga, he granted to the Germans who might seek his dominions immunity from liability to the red-hot iron ordeal and wager of battle.[686]

Germany seems to have been somewhat later than France or Italy in the movement, yet her burghers evidently regarded it with favor. Frederic II., who recorded his disapproval of the duel in his Sicilian Constitutions, was ready to encourage them in this tendency, and in his charters to Ratisbon and Vienna he authorized their citizens to decline the duel and clear themselves by compurgation,[687] while as early as 1219 he exempted the Nürnbergers from the appeal of battle throughout the empire.[688] The burgher law of Northern Germany alludes to the judicial combat only in criminal charges, such as violence, homicide, housebreaking, and theft;[689] and this is limited in the statutes of Eisenach, of 1283, which provide that no duel shall be adjudged in the town, except in cases of homicide, and then only when the hand of the murdered man shall be produced in court at the trial.[690] In 1291, Rodolph of Hapsburg issued a constitution declaring that the burghers of the free imperial cities should not be liable to the duel outside of the limits of their individual towns,[691] and in the Kayser-Recht this privilege is extended by declaring the burghers exempt from all challenge to combat, except in a suit brought by a fellow-citizen.[692] Notwithstanding this, special immunities continued to be granted, showing that these general laws were of little effect unless supported by the temper of the people. Thus Louis IV. in 1332 gave such a privilege to Dortmund, and so late as 1355 Charles IV. bestowed it on the citizens of Worms.[693]

A somewhat noteworthy exception to this tendency on the part of the municipalities is to be found in Moravia. There, under the laws of Ottokar Premizlas, in 1229 the duel was forbidden between natives and only allowed when one of the parties was a foreigner. Yet his son Wenceslas, some years later, confirmed the customs of the town of Iglau, in which the duel was a recognized feature enforced by an ascending scale of fines. If the accused compounded with the prosecutor before the duel was ordered he paid the judge one mark; after it was adjudged, two marks; after the lists were entered, three marks; after weapons were taken, four marks; and if he waited till the weapons were drawn he had to pay five marks.[694]

* * * * *

All these were local regulations which had no direct bearing on general legislation, except in so far as they might assist in softening the manners of their generation and aiding in the general spread of civilization. A more efficient cause was to be found in the opposition of the Church. From Liutprand the Lombard to Frederic II., a period of five centuries, no secular lawgiver, south of Denmark, seems to have thought of abolishing the judicial combat as a measure of general policy, and those whose influence was largest were the most conspicuous in fostering it. During the whole of this period the Church was consistently engaged in discrediting it, notwithstanding that the local interests or pride of individual prelates might lead them to defend the vested privileges connected with it in their jurisdictions.

When King Gundobald gave form and shape to the battle ordeal in digesting the Burgundian laws, Avitus, Bishop of Vienne, remonstrated loudly against the practice as unjust and unchristian. A new controversy arose on the occasion of the duel between the Counts Bera and Sanila, to which allusion has already been made as one of the important events in the reign of Louis le Débonnaire. St. Agobard, Archbishop of Lyons, took advantage of the opportunity to address to the Emperor a treatise in which he strongly deprecated the settlement of judicial questions by the sword; and he subsequently wrote another tract against ordeals in general, consisting principally of scriptural texts with a running commentary, proving the incompatibility of Christian doctrines with these unchristian practices.[695] Some thirty-five years later the Council of Valence, in 855, denounced the wager of battle in the most decided terms, praying the Emperor Lothair to abolish it throughout his dominions, and adopting a canon which not only excommunicated the victor in such contests, but refused the rights of Christian sepulture to the victim.[696] By this time the forces of the church were becoming consolidated in the papacy, and the Vicegerent of God was beginning to make his voice heard authoritatively throughout Europe. The popes accordingly were not long in protesting energetically against the custom. Nicholas I. denounced it vigorously as a tempting of God, unauthorized by divine law,[697] and his successors consistently endeavored, as we have already seen, to discredit it. In the latter half of the twelfth century, Peter Cantor argues that a champion undertaking the combat relies either on his superior strength and skill, which is manifest injustice; or on the justice of his cause, which is presumption; or on a special miracle, which is a devilish tempting of God.[698] Alexander III. decided that a cleric engaging in a duel, whether willingly or unwillingly, whether victor or vanquished, was subject to deposition, but that his bishop could grant him a dispensation provided there had been loss of neither life nor limb.[699] Towards the close of the century Celestine III. went further, and in the case of a priest who had put forward a champion who had slain his antagonist he decided that both principal and champion were guilty of homicide and the priest could no longer perform his functions, though he might have a dispensation to hold his benefice.[700] These cases suggest one of the reasons why the repeated papal prohibitions were so ineffective. The all-pervading venality of the Church of the period found in the dispensing power an exhaustless source of profit, and dispensations for “irregularities” of all kinds were so habitually issued that the threatened punishments lost their terrors, and as Rome gradually absorbed the episcopal jurisdiction, offenders of all kinds knew that relief from the operation of the canons could always be had there. Some reason for setting them aside was never hard to find. In 1208 a canon of Bourges was elected prior; his disappointed competitor claimed that he was ineligible because he had once served as judge in a duel in which there was effusion of blood. Innocent III. was appealed to, who decided that the canon was capable of promotion to any dignity, and the chief reason alleged was that the evil custom of the duel was so universal in some regions that ecclesiastics of all classes from the lowest to the highest were habitually concerned in them.[701]

Innocent III., however, took care that the great council of Lateran in 1215 should confirm all the previous prohibitions of the practice.[702] It was probably this papal influence that led Simon de Montfort, the special champion of the church, to limit the use of the duel in the territories which he won in his crusade against the Count of Toulouse. In a charter given December 1, 1212, he forbids its use in all the seignorial courts in his dominions, except in cases of treason, theft, robbery, and murder.[703] De Montfort’s dependence on Rome, however, was exceptional, and Christendom at large was not as yet prepared to appreciate the reformatory efforts of the popes. The most that the Council of Paris, held in 1212 for the reformation of the church by the cardinal-legate Robert de Curzon, could do was to order the bishops not to permit the duel in cemeteries or other sacred places.[704]

The opposition of the church as represented by its worthiest and most authoritative spokesmen continued. St. Ramon de Peñafort, the leading canonist of his time, about 1240, asserts uncompromisingly that all concerned in judicial combats are guilty of mortal sin; the sin is somewhat lightened indeed when the pleader is obliged to accept the combat by order of the judge, but the judge himself, the assessors who counsel it, and the priest who gives the benediction all sin most gravely; if death occurs they are all homicides and are rendered “irregular.”[705] About the same time Alexander Hales ingeniously argued away the precedent of David and Goliath by showing that it was simply a prefiguration of the Passion, in which Christ triumphed over Satan as in a duel.[706] With the development, moreover, of the subtilties of scholastic theology the doctors found that the duel was less objectionable than the other forms of ordeal, because, as Thomas Aquinas remarks, the hot iron or boiling water is a direct tempting of God, while the duel is only a matter of chance, for no one expects miraculous interposition unless the champions are very unequal in age or strength.[707] This struck at the very root of the faith on which confidence in the battle ordeal was based, yet in spite of it the persistence of ecclesiastical belief in the divine interposition is fairly illustrated by a case, related with great triumph by monkish chroniclers, as late as the fourteenth century, when a duel was undertaken by direction of the Virgin Mary herself. In 1325, according to the story, a French Jew feigned conversion to Christianity in order to gratify his spleen by mutilating the images in the churches, and at length he committed the sacrilege of carrying off the holy wafer to aid in the hideous rites of his fellows. The patience of the Virgin being at last exhausted, she appeared in a vision to a certain smith, commanding him to summon the impious Israelite to the field. A second and a third time was the vision repeated without effect, till at last the smith, on entering a church, was confronted by the Virgin in person, scolded for his remissness, promised an easy victory, and forbidden to pass the church door until his duty should be accomplished. He obeyed and sought the authorities. The duel was decreed, and the unhappy Hebrew, on being brought into the lists, yielded without a blow, falling on his knees, confessing his unpardonable sins, and crying that he could not resist the thousands of armed men who appeared around his adversary with threatening weapons. He was accordingly promptly burned, to the great satisfaction of all believers.[708]

Evidently the clergy at large did not second the reformatory efforts of their pontiffs. There was not only the ancestral belief implanted in the minds of those from among whom they were drawn, but the seignorial rights enjoyed by prelates and abbeys were not to be willingly abandoned. The progress of enlightenment was slow and the teachings of the papacy can only be enumerated as one of the factors at work to discredit the judicial duel.[709] We can estimate how deeply rooted were the prejudices to be overcome when we find Dante seriously arguing that property acquired by the duel is justly acquired; that God may be relied upon to render the just cause triumphant; that it is wicked to doubt it, while it is folly to believe that a champion can be the weaker when God strengthens him.[710]

In its endeavors to suppress the judicial duel the Church had to weigh opposing difficulties. It could, as we have seen (p. 156), enjoin its members from taking part in such combats and from adjudging them in their jurisdictions; it could decree that priests became “irregular” if death ensued in duels where they gave the benediction, or perhaps even where they had only brought relics on which the combatants took the oaths. But over the secular courts it had only the power of persuasion, or at most of moral coercion, and among the canon doctors there was considerable discussion as to the extent to which it could pronounce participation in the duel a mortal sin, entailing excommunication and denial of the rites of sepulture. When a man sought the duel, when he demanded it of the judge and provoked his adversary to it, he could be pronounced guilty of homicide if death ensued. It was otherwise where an innocent man was accused of a mortal crime and would be hanged if he refused the duel adjudged to him by court. It was argued that the Church was a harsh mother if she forced her children thus to submit to death and infamy for a scruple of recent origin, raised merely by papal command, though the more rigid casuists insisted even on this. All agreed, however, that in civil cases a man ought rather to undergo the loss of his property than to imperil his soul and disobey the Church.[711]

* * * * *

Perhaps the most powerful cause at work was the revival of the Roman jurisprudence, which in the thirteenth century commenced to undermine all the institutions of feudalism. Its theory of royal supremacy was most agreeable to sovereigns whose authority over powerful vassals was scarcely more than nominal; its perfection of equity between man and man could not fail to render it enticing to clear-minded jurists, wearied with the complicated and fantastic privileges of ecclesiastical, feudal, and customary law. Thus recommended, its progress was rapid. Monarchs lost no opportunity of inculcating respect for that which served their purpose so well, and the civil lawyers, who were their most useful instruments, speedily rose to be a power in the state. Of course the struggle was long, for feudalism had arisen from the necessities of the age, and a system on which were based all the existing institutions of Europe could only be attacked in detail, and could only be destroyed when the advance of civilization and the general diffusion of enlightenment had finally rendered it obsolete. The French Revolution was the final battle-field, and that terrible upheaval was requisite to obliterate a form of society whose existence had numbered nine hundred years.

The wager of battle was not long in experiencing the first assaults of the new power. The earliest efficient steps towards its abolition were taken in 1231 by the Emperor Frederic II. in his Neapolitan code. He pronounces it to be in no sense a legal proof, but only a species of divination, incompatible with every notion of equity and justice; and he prohibits it for the future, except in cases of poisoning or secret murder and treason where other proof is unattainable; and even in these it is placed at the option of the accuser alone; moreover, if the accuser commences by offering proof and fails he cannot then have recourse to combat; the accused must be acquitted.[712] The German Imperial code, known as the Kayser-Recht, which was probably compiled about the same time, contains a similar denunciation of the uncertainty of the duel, but does not venture on a prohibition, merely renouncing all responsibility for it, while recognizing it as a settled custom.[713] In the portion, however, devoted to municipal law, which is probably somewhat later in date, the prohibition is much more stringently expressed, manifesting the influences at work;[714] but even this is contradicted by a passage almost immediately preceding it. How little influence these wise counsels had, in a state so intensely feudal and aristocratic, is exemplified in the Suabian and Saxon codes, where the duel plays so important a part. Yet the desire to escape it was not altogether confined to the honest burghers of the cities, for in 1277 Rodolph of Hapsburg, even before he granted immunity to the imperial towns, gave a charter to the duchy of Styria, securing to the Styrians their privileges and rights, and in this he forbade the duel in all cases where sufficient testimony could be otherwise obtained; while the general tenor of the document shows that this was regarded as a favor.[715] The Emperor Albert I. was no less desirous of restricting the duel, and in ordinary criminal cases endeavored to substitute compurgation.[716]

Still, as late as 1487, the Inquisitor Sprenger, in discountenancing the red-hot iron ordeal in witch-trials, feels himself obliged to meet the arguments of those who urged the lawfulness of the duel as a reason for permitting the cognate appeal to the ordeal. To this he naïvely replies, as Thomas Aquinas had done, that they are essentially different, as the champions in a duel are about equally matched, and the killing of one of them is a simple affair, while the iron ordeal, or that of drinking boiling water, is a tempting of God by requiring a miracle.[717] This shows at the same time how thoroughly the judicial combat had degenerated from its original theory, and that the appeal to the God of battles had become a mere question of chance, or of the comparative strength and skill of a couple of professional bravos.

In Spain the influence of Roman institutions, transmitted through the Wisigothic laws, had allowed to the judicial duel less foothold than in other mediæval lands, and the process of suppressing it began early. In Aragon the chivalrous Jayme I., _el Conquistador_, in the franchises granted to Majorca, on its conquest in 1230, prohibited the judicial combat in both civil and criminal cases.[718] Within forty years from this, Alfonso the Wise of Castile issued the code generally known as Las Siete Partidas. In this he evidently desired to curb the practice as far as possible, stigmatizing it as a custom peculiar to the military class (_por lid de caballeros ò de peones_), and as reprehensible both as a tempting of God and as a source of perpetual injustice.[719] Accordingly, he subjected it to very important limitations. The wager of battle could only be granted by the king himself; it could only take place between gentlemen, and in personal actions alone which savored of treachery, such as murder, blows, or other dishonor, inflicted without warning or by surprise. Offences committed against property, burning, forcible seizure, and other wrongs, even without defiance, were specifically declared not subject to its decision, the body of the plaintiff being its only recognized justification.[720] Even in this limited sphere, the consent of both parties was requisite, for the appellant could prosecute in the ordinary legal manner, and the defendant, if challenged to battle, could elect to have the case tried by witnesses or inquest, nor could the king himself refuse him the right to do so.[721] When to this is added that a preliminary trial was requisite to decide whether the alleged offence was treacherous in its character or not, it will be seen that the combat was hedged around with such difficulties as rendered its presence on the statute book scarcely more than an unmeaning concession to popular prejudice; and if anything were wanting to prove the utter contempt of the legislator for the decisions of the battle-trial, it is to be found in the regulation that if the accused was killed on the field, without confessing the imputed crime, he was to be pronounced innocent, as one who had fallen in vindicating the truth.[722] The same desire to restrict the duel within the narrowest possible limits is shown in the rules concerning the employment of champions, which have been already alluded to. Although the Partidas as a scheme of legislation was not confirmed until the cortes of 1348 these provisions were lasting and produced the effect designed. It is true that in 1342 we hear of a combat ordered by Alfonso XI. between Pay Rodriguez de Ambia and Ruy Paez de Biedma, who mutually accused each other of treason. It was fought before the king and lasted for three days without either party obtaining the victory, till, on the evening of the third day, the king entered the lists and pacified the quarrel, saying that both antagonists could serve him better by fighting the Moors, with whom he was at war, than by killing each other.[723] Not long afterwards Alfonso in the Ordenamiento de Alcalá, issued in 1348, repeated the restrictions of the Partidas, but in a very cursory manner, and rather incidently than directly, showing that the judicial combat was then a matter of little importance.[724] In fact, the jurisprudence of Spain was derived so directly from the Roman law through the Wisigothic code and its Romance recension, the Fuero Juzgo, that the wager of battle could never have become so deeply rooted in the national faith as among the more purely barbarian races. It was therefore more readily eradicated, and yet, as late as the sixteenth century, a case occurred in which the judicial duel was prescribed by Charles V., in whose presence the combat took place.[725]

The varying phases of the struggle between progress and centralization on the one side, and chivalry and feudalism on the other, were exceedingly well marked in France, and as the materials for tracing them are abundant, a more detailed account of the gradual reform may perhaps have interest, as illustrating the long and painful strife which has been necessary to evoke order and civilization out of the incongruous elements from which modern European society has sprung. The sagacity of St. Louis, so rarely at fault in the details of civil administration, saw in the duel not only an unchristian and unrighteous practice, but a symbol of the disorganizing feudalism which he so energetically labored to suppress. His temper led him rather to adopt pacific measures, in sapping by the forms of law the foundations of the feudal power, than to break it down by force of arms as his predecessors had attempted. The centralization of the Roman polity might well appear to him and his advisers the ideal of a well-ordered state, and the royal supremacy had by this time advanced to a point where the gradual extension of the judicial prerogatives of the crown might prove the surest mode of humbling eventually the haughty vassals who had so often bearded the sovereign. No legal procedure was more closely connected with feudalism, or embodied its spirit more thoroughly, than the wager of battle, and Louis accordingly did all that lay in his power to abrogate the custom. The royal authority was strictly circumscribed, however, and though, in his celebrated Ordonnance of 1260, he formally prohibited the battle trial in the territory subject to his jurisdiction,[726] he was obliged to admit that he had no power to control the courts of his barons beyond the domains of the crown.[727] Even within this comparatively limited sphere, we may fairly assume from some passages in the Établissements, compiled about the year 1270, that he was unable to do away entirely with the practice. It is to be found permitted in some cases both civil and criminal, of peculiarly knotty character, admitting of no other apparent solution.[728] It seems, indeed, remarkable that he should even have authorized personal combat between brothers, in criminal accusations, only restricting them in civil suits to fighting by champions,[729] when the German law of nearly the same period forbids the duel, like marriage, between relations in the fifth degree, and states that previously it had been prohibited to those connected in the seventh degree.[730]

Even this qualified reform provoked determined opposition. Every motive of pride and interest prompted resistance. The prejudices of birth, the strength of the feudal principle, the force of chivalric superstition, the pride of self-reliance gave keener edge to the apprehension of losing an assured source of revenue. The right of granting the wager of battle was one of those appertaining to the _hauts-justiciers_, and so highly was it esteemed that paintings of champions fighting frequently adorned their halls as emblems of their prerogatives; Loysel, indeed, deduces from it a maxim, “The pillory, the gibbet, the iron collar, and paintings of champions engaged, are marks of high jurisdiction.”[731] This right had a considerable money value, for the seigneur at whose court an appeal of battle was tried received from the defeated party a fine of sixty livres if he was a gentleman, and sixty sous if a roturier, besides a perquisite of the horses and arms employed, and heavy mulcts for any delays which might be asked,[732] besides fines from those who withdrew after the combat was decreed.[733] Nor was this all, for during the centuries of its existence there had grown and clustered around the custom an immeasurable mass of rights and privileges which struggled lustily against destruction. Thus, hardly had the ordonnance of prohibition been issued when, in 1260, a knight named Mathieu le Voyer actually brought suit against the king for the loss it inflicted upon him. He dolefully set forth that he enjoyed the privilege of guarding the lists in all duels adjudged in the royal court at Corbon, for which he was entitled to receive a fee of five sous in each case; and, as his occupation thus was gone, he claimed compensation, modestly suggesting that he be allowed the same tax on all inquests held under the new law.[734] How closely all such sources of revenue were watched is illustrated by a case occurring in 1286, when Philippe le Bel remitted the fines accruing to him from a duel between two squires adjudged in the royal court of Tours. The seneschal of Anjou and Touraine brought suit before the Parlement of Paris to recover one-third of the amount, as he was entitled to that proportion of all dues arising from combats held within his jurisdiction, and he argued that the liberality of the king was not to be exercised to his disadvantage. His claim was pronounced just, and a verdict was rendered in his favor.[735]

But the loss of money was less important than the curtailment of privilege and the threatened absorption of power of which this reform was the precursor. Every step in advancing the influence of peaceful justice, as expounded by the jurists of the royal courts, was a heavy blow to the independence of the feudatories. They felt their ancestral rights assailed at the weakest point, and they instinctively recognized that, as the jurisdiction of the royal bailiffs became extended, and as appeals to the court of the Parlement of Paris became more frequent, their importance was diminished, and their means of exercising a petty tyranny over those around them were abridged. Entangled in the mazes of a code in which the unwonted maxims of Roman law were daily quoted with increasing veneration, the impetuous seigneur found himself the prey of those whom he despised, and he saw that subtle lawyers were busily undoing the work at which his ancestors had labored for centuries. These feelings are well portrayed in a song of the period, exhumed not long since by Le Roux de Lincy. Written apparently by one of the sufferers, it gives so truthful a view of the conservative ideas of the thirteenth century that a translation of the first stanza may not be amiss:—

Gent de France, mult estes esbahis! Je di à touz ceus qui sont nez des fiez, etc.[736]

Ye men of France, dismayed and sore Ye well may be. In sooth, I swear, Gentles, so help me God, no more Are ye the freemen that ye were! Where is your freedom? Ye are brought To trust your rights to inquest law, Where tricks and quibbles set at naught The sword your fathers wont to draw. Land of the Franks!—no more that name Is thine—a land of slaves art thou, Of bondsmen, wittols, who to shame And wrong must bend submissive now!

Even legists—de Fontaines, whose admiration of the Digest led him on all occasions to seek an incongruous alliance between the customary and imperial law, and Beaumanoir, who in most things was far in advance of his age, and who assisted so energetically in the work of centralization—even these enlightened lawyers hesitate to object to the principles involved in the battle trial, and while disapproving of the custom, express their views in language which contrasts strongly with the vigorous denunciations of Frederic II. half a century earlier.[737]

How powerful were the influences thus brought to bear against the innovation is shown by the fact that when the mild but firm hand of St. Louis no longer grasped the sceptre, his son and successor could not maintain his father’s laws. In 1280 there is a record of a duel adjudged in the king’s court between Jeanne de la Valete and the Sire of Montricher on an accusation of arson;[738] and about 1283 Philippe even allowed himself to preside at a judicial duel, scarcely more than twenty years after the promulgation of the ordonnance of prohibition.[739] The next monarch, Philippe le Bel, was at first guilty of the same weakness, for when in 1293 the Count of Armagnac accused Raymond Bernard of Foix of treason, a duel between them was decreed, and they were compelled to fight before the king at Gisors; though Robert d’Artois interfered after the combat had commenced, and induced Philippe to separate the antagonists.[740] Philippe, however, was too astute not to see that his interests lay in humbling feudalism in all its forms; while the rapid extension of the jurisdiction of the crown, and the limitations on the seignorial courts, so successfully invented and asserted by the lawyers, acting by means of the Parlement through the royal bailiffs, gave him power to carry his views into effect such as had been enjoyed by none of his predecessors. Able and unscrupulous, he took full advantage of his opportunities in every way, and the wager of battle was not long in experiencing the effect of his encroachments. Still, he proceeded step by step, and the vacillation of his legislation shows how obstinate was the spirit with which he had to deal. In 1296 he prohibited the judicial duel in time of war, and in 1303 he was obliged to repeat the prohibition.[741] It was probably not long after this that he interdicted the duel wholly[742]—possibly impelled thereto by a case occurring in 1303, in which he is described as forced to grant the combat between two nobles, on an accusation of murder, very greatly against his wishes, and in spite of all his efforts to dissuade the appellant.[743]

In thus abrogating the wager of battle, Philippe le Bel was in advance of his age. Before three years were over he was forced to abandon the position he had assumed; and though he gave as a reason for the restoration of the duel that its absence had proved a fruitful source of encouragement for crime and villany,[744] yet at the same time he took care to place on record the assertion of his own conviction that it was worthless as a means of seeking justice.[745] In thus legalizing it by the Ordonnance of 1306, however, he by no means replaced it on its former footing. It was restricted to criminal cases involving the death penalty, excepting theft, and it was only permitted when the crime was notorious, the guilt of the accused probable, and no other evidence attainable.[746] The ceremonies prescribed, moreover, were fearfully expensive, and put it out of the reach of all except the wealthiest pleaders. As the ordonnance, which is very carefully drawn, only refers to appeals made by the prosecutor, it may fairly be assumed that the defendant could merely accept the challenge and had no right to offer it.

Even with these limitations, Philippe was not disposed to sanction the practice within the domains of the crown, for, the next year (1307), we find him commanding the seneschal of Toulouse to allow no duel to be adjudged in his court, but to send all cases in which the combat might arise to the Parlement of Paris for decision.[747] This was equivalent to a formal prohibition. During the whole of the period under consideration, numerous causes came before the Parlement concerning challenges to battle, on appeals from various jurisdictions throughout the country, and it is interesting to observe how uniformly some valid reason was found for its refusal. In the public register of decisions, extending from 1254 to 1318, scarcely a single example of its permission is to be found.[748] One doubtful instance which I have observed is a curious case occurring in 1292, wherein a man accused a woman of homicide in the court of the Chapter of Soissons, and the royal officers interfered on the ground that the plaintiff was a bastard. As by the local custom he thus was in some sort a serf of the crown, they assumed that he could not risk his body without the express permission of the king. The Chapter contended for the appellant’s legitimacy, and the case became so much obscured by the loss of the record of examination made, that the Parlement finally shuffled it out of court without any definite decision.[749]

Two decisions, in 1309, show that the Ordonnance of 1306 was in force, for while they admit that the duel was legally possible, the cases are settled by inquest as capable of proof by investigation. One of these was an incident in the old quarrel between the Counts of Foix and Armagnac, and its decision shows how great a stride had been made since their duel of 1293. Raymond de Cardone, a kinsman of Foix, gaged his battle in the king’s court against Armagnac; Armagnac did the same against Foix and claimed that his challenge had priority over that of Raymond, while Bernard de Comminges also demanded battle of Foix. All these challenges arose out of predatory border incursions between these nobles, and in its verdict the Parlement refuses to grant the combat in any of them, orders all the parties to swear peace and give bail to keep it, and moreover condemns Foix in heavy damages to his adversaries and to the king, whose territories he had invaded in one of his forays. The Count of Foix made some objection to submitting to the sentence, but a short imprisonment brought him to his senses.[750] A more thorough vindication of the royal jurisdiction over powerful feudatories could scarcely be imagined, and the work of the civil lawyers seemed to be perfectly accomplished. It was the same with all the variety of cases involving the duel which were brought to the cognizance of the Parlement. Some ingenious excuse was always found for refusing it, whether by denying the jurisdiction of the court which had granted it, or by alleging other reasons more or less frivolous, the evident intention of all the _arrêts_ being to restrict the custom, as allowed under the ordonnance, within limits so narrow as to render it practically a nullity. The astute lawyers who composed the royal court knew too well the work committed to them to hesitate as to their conclusions, while Philippe’s distaste for the duel probably received a stimulus when, at the Council of Vienne in 1312 he endeavored to obtain the condemnation of the memory of Boniface VIII., and two Catalan knights offered to prove by the single combat that the late pope had been legitimately elected and had not been a heretic.[751]

In spite of these efforts, the progress of reform was slow. On the breaking out afresh of the perennial contest with Flanders, Philippe found himself, in 1314, obliged to repeat his order of 1296, forbidding all judicial combats during the war, and holding suspended such as were in progress.[752] As these duels could have little real importance in crippling his military resources, it is evident that he seized such occasions to accomplish under the war power what his peaceful prerogative was unable to effect, and it is a striking manifestation of his zeal in the cause, that he could turn aside to give attention to it amid the preoccupations of the exhausting struggle with the Flemings. Yet how little impression he made, and how instinctively the popular mind still turned to the battle ordeal, as the surest resource in all cases of doubt, is well illustrated by a passage in a rhyming chronicle of the day. When the close of Philippe’s long and prosperous reign was darkened by the terrible scandal of his three daughters-in-law, and two of them were convicted of adultery, Godefroy de Paris makes the third, Jeanne, wife of Philippe le Long, offer at once to prove her innocence by the combat:—

Gentil roy, je vous requier, sire, Que vous m’oiez en defendant. Se nul ou nule demandant Me vait chose de mauvestie, Mon cuer sens si pur, si haitie, Que bonement me deffendrai, Ou tel champion baillerai, Qui bien saura mon droit deffendre, S’il vous plest à mon gage prendre.[753]

* * * * *

The iron hand of Philippe was no sooner withdrawn than the nobles made desperate efforts to throw off the yoke which he had so skilfully and relentlessly imposed on them. His son, Louis Hutin, not yet firmly seated on the throne, was constrained to yield a portion of the newly-acquired prerogative. The nobles of Burgundy, for instance, in their formal list of grievances, demanded the restoration of the wager of battle as a right of the accused in criminal cases, and Louis was obliged to promise that they should enjoy it according to ancient custom.[754] Those of Amiens and Vermandois were equally clamorous, and for their benefit he re-enacted the Ordonnance of 1306, permitting the duel in criminal prosecutions where other evidence was deficient, with an important extension authorizing its application to cases of theft, in opposition to previous usage.[755] A legal record, compiled about 1325 to illustrate the customs of Picardy, shows by a group of cases that it was still quite common, and that indeed it was the ordinary defence in accusations of homicide.[756] The nobles of Champagne demanded similar privileges, but Louis, by the right of his mother, Jeanne de Champagne, was Count of Champagne, and his authority was less open to dispute. He did not venture on a decided refusal, but an evasive answer, which was tantamount to a denial of the request,[757] showed that his previous concessions were extorted, and not willingly granted. Not content with this, the Champenois repeated their demand, and received the dry response, that the existing edicts on the subject must be observed.[758]

The threatened disturbances were avoided, and during the succeeding years the centralization of jurisdiction in the royal courts made rapid progress. It is a striking evidence of the successful working of the plans of St. Louis and Philippe le Bel that several ordonnances and charters granted by Philippe le Long in 1318 and 1319, while promising reforms in the procedures of the bailiffs and seneschals, and in the manner of holding inquests, are wholly silent on the subject of the duel, affording a fair inference that complaints on that score were no longer made.[759] Philip of Valois was especially energetic in maintaining the royal jurisdiction, and when in 1330 he was obliged to restrict the abusive use of appeals from the local courts to the Parlement,[760] it is evident that the question of granting or withholding the wager of battle had become practically a prerogative of the crown. That the challenging of witnesses must ere long have fallen into desuetude is shown by an edict of Charles VI., issued in 1396, by which he ordered that the testimony of women should be received in evidence in all the courts throughout his kingdom.[761]

Though the duel was thus deprived, in France, of its importance as an ordinary legal procedure, yet it was by no means extinguished, nor had it lost its hold upon the confidence of the people. An instructive illustration of this is afforded by the well-known story of the Dog of Montargis. Though the learned Bullet[762] has demonstrated the fabulous nature of this legend, and has traced its paternity up to the Carlovingian romances, still, the fact is indubitable that it was long believed to have occurred in 1371, under the reign of Charles le Sage, and that authors nearly contemporary with that period recount the combat of the dog and the knight as an unquestionable fact, admiring greatly the sagacity of the animal, and regarding as a matter of course both the extraordinary judicial proceedings and the righteous judgment of God which gave the victory to the greyhound.

In 1371 there was battle gaged between Sir Thomas Felton, Seneschal of Aquitaine, and Raymond de Caussade, Seigneur de Puycornet. Apparently they felt that a fair field could not be had in either French or English territory, and they applied to Pedro el Ceremonioso of Aragon to provide the lists for them. Pedro acceded to the request and promised to preside, provided there was due cause for a judicial duel and that the arms were agreed upon in advance, and he sent the combatants safe-conducts to come to Aragon. He assigned the city of Valencia as the place of combat, and when there was an endeavor to break off the affair on the ground that it concerned the kings of France and England, he replied that it was now too late and that the battle must take place.[763]

In 1386, the Parlement of Paris was occupied with a subtle discussion as to whether the accused was obliged, in cases where battle was gaged, to give the lie to the appellant, under pain of being considered to confess the crime charged, and it was decided that the lie was not essential.[764] The same year occurred the celebrated duel between the Chevalier de Carrouges and Jacques le Gris, to witness which the king shortened a campaign, and in which the appellant was seconded by Waleran, Count of St. Pol, son-in-law of the Black Prince. Nothing can well be more impressive than the scene so picturesquely described by Froissart. The cruelly wronged Dame de Carrouges, clothed in black, is mounted on a sable scaffold, watching the varying chances of the unequal combat between her husband, weakened by disease, and his vigorous antagonist, with the fearful certainty that, if strength alone prevail, he must die a shameful death and she be consigned to the stake. Hope grows faint and fainter; a grievous wound seems to place Carrouges at the mercy of his adversary, until at the last moment, when all appeared lost, she sees the avenger drive his sword through the body of his prostrate enemy, vindicating at once his wife’s honor and his own good cause.[765] Froissart, however, was rather an artist than an historian; he would not risk the effect of his picture by too rigid an adherence to facts, and he omits to mention, what is told by the cooler Juvenal des Ursins, that Le Gris was subsequently proved innocent by the death-bed confession of the real offender.[766] To make the tragedy complete, the Anonyme de S. Denis adds that the miserable Dame de Carrouges, overwhelmed with remorse at having unwittingly caused the disgrace and death of an innocent man, ended her days in a convent.[767] So striking a proof of the injustice of the battle ordeal is said by some writers to have caused the abandonment of the practice; but this, as will be seen, is an error, though no further trace of the combat as a judicial procedure is to be found on the registers of the Parlement of Paris.[768]

Still, it was popularly regarded as an unfailing resource. Thus, in 1390, two women were accused at the Châtelet of Paris of sorcery. After repeated torture, a confession implicating both was extracted from one of them, but the other persisted in her denial, and challenged her companion to the duel by way of disproving her evidence. In the record of the proceedings the challenge is duly entered, but no notice whatever seems to have been taken of it by the court, showing that it was no longer a legal mode of trial in such cases.[769]

In 1409, the battle trial was materially limited by an ordonnance of Charles VI. prohibiting its employment except when specially granted by the king or the Parlement;[770] and though the latter body may never have exercised the privilege thus conferred upon it, the king occasionally did, as we find him during the same year presiding at a judicial duel between Guillaume Bariller, a Breton knight, and John Carrington, an Englishman.[771] The English occupation of France, under Henry V. and the Regent Bedford, revived the practice, and removed for a time the obstacles to its employment. Nicholas Upton, writing in the middle of the fifteenth century, repeatedly alludes to the numerous cases in which he assisted as officer of the Earl of Salisbury, Lieutenant of the King of England; and in his chapters devoted to defining the different species of duel he betrays a singular confusion between the modern ideas of reparation of honor and the original object of judicial investigation, thus fairly illustrating the transitional character of the period.[772]

It was about this time that Philippe le Bon, Duke of Burgundy, formally abolished the wager of battle, as far as lay in his power, throughout the extensive dominions of which he was sovereign, and in the Coutumier of Burgundy, as revised by him in 1459, there is no trace of it to be found. The code in force in Britanny until 1539 permitted it in cases of contested estates, and of treason, theft, and perjury—the latter, as usual, extending it over a considerable range of civil actions, while the careful particularization of details by the code shows that it was not merely a judicial antiquity.[773] In Normandy, the legal existence of the judicial duel was even more prolonged, for it was not until the revision of the coutumier in 1583, under Henry III., that the privilege of deciding in this way numerous cases, both civil and criminal, was formally abolished.[774] Still, it may be assumed that, practically, the custom had long been obsolete, though the tardy process of revising the local customs allowed it to remain upon the statute book to so late a date. The fierce mountaineers of remote Béarn clung to it more obstinately, and in the last revision of their code, in 1552, which remained unaltered until 1789, it retains its place as a legitimate means of proof, in default of other testimony, with a heavy penalty on the party who did not appear upon the field at the appointed time.[775]

During this long period, examples are to be found which show that although the combat was falling into disuse, it was still a legal procedure, which in certain cases could be claimed as a right, or which could be decreed and enforced by competent judicial authority. Among the privileges of the town of Valenciennes was one to the effect that any homicide taking refuge there could swear that the act had been committed in self-defence, when he could be appealed only in battle. This gave occasion to a combat in 1455 between a certain Mahuot and Jacotin Plouvier, the former of whom had killed a kinsman of the latter. Neither party desired the battle, but the municipal government insisted upon it, and furnished them with instructors to teach the use of the club and buckler allowed as arms. The Comte de Charolois, Charles le Téméraire, endeavored to prevent the useless cruelty, but the city held any interference as an infringement of its chartered rights; and, after long negotiations, Philippe le Bon, the suzerain, authorized the combat and was present at it. The combatants, according to custom, had the head shaved and the nails pared on both hands and feet; they were dressed from head to foot in a tight-fitting suit of hardened leather, and each was anointed with grease to prevent his antagonist from clutching him. The combat was long and desperate, but at length the appellant literally tore out the heart of his antagonist.[776] Such incidents among roturiers, however, were rare. More frequently some fiery gentleman claimed the right of vindicating his quarrel at the risk of his life. Thus, in 1482, shortly after the battle of Nancy had reinstated René, Duke of Lorraine, on the ruins of the second house of Burgundy, two gentlemen of the victor’s court, quarrelling over the spoils of the battle-field, demanded the _champ-clos_; it was duly granted, and on the appointed day the appellant was missing, to the great discomfiture and no little loss of his bail.[777] When Charles d’Armagnac, in 1484, complained to the States General of the inhuman destruction of his family, committed by order of Louis XI., the Sieur de Castlenau, whom he accused of having poisoned his mother, the Comtesse d’Armagnac, appeared before the assembly, and, his advocate denying the charge, presented his offer to prove his innocence by single combat.[778] In 1518, Henry II. of Navarre ordered a judicial duel at Pau between two contestants, of whom the appellant made default; the defendant was accordingly pronounced innocent, and was empowered to drag through all cities, villages, and other places through which he might pass, the escutcheon and effigy of his adversary, who was further punished by the prohibition thenceforth to wear arms or knightly bearings.[779] In 1538, Francis I. granted the combat between Jean du Plessis and Gautier de Dinteville, which would appear to have been essentially a judicial proceeding, since the defendant, not appearing at the appointed time, was condemned to death by sentence of the high council, Feb. 20, 1538.[780] The duel thus was evidently still a matter of law, which vindicated its majesty by punishing the unlucky contestant who shrank from the arbitrament of the sword.

Allusion has already been made to the celebrated combat between Chastaigneraye and Jarnac, in 1547, wherein the death of the former, a favorite of Henry II., led the monarch to take a solemn oath never to authorize another judicial duel. Two years later, two young nobles of his court, Jacques de Fontaine, Sieur de Fendilles, and Claude des Guerres, Baron de Vienne-le-Chatel, desired to settle in this manner a disgusting accusation brought against the latter by the former. The king, having debarred himself from granting the appeal, arranged the matter by allowing Robert de la Marck, Marshal of France, and sovereign Prince of Sedan, to permit it in the territory of which he was suzerain. Fendilles was so sure of success that he refused to enter the lists until a gallows was erected and a stake lighted, where his adversary after defeat was to be gibbeted and burned. Their only weapons were broad-swords, and at the first pass Fendilles inflicted on his opponent a fearful gash in the thigh. Des Guerres, seeing that loss of blood would soon reduce him to extremity, closed with his antagonist, and being a skilful wrestler speedily threw him. Reduced to his natural weapons, he could only inflict blows with the fist, which failing strength rendered less and less effective, when a scaffold crowded with ladies and gentlemen gave way, throwing down the spectators in a shrieking mass. Taking advantage of the confusion, the friends of Des Guerres violated the law which imposed absolute silence and neutrality on all, and called to him to blind and suffocate his adversary with sand. Des Guerres promptly took the hint, and Fendilles succumbed to this unknightly weapon. Whether he formally yielded or not was disputed. Des Guerres claimed that he should undergo the punishment of the gallows and stake prepared for himself, but de la Marck interfered, and the combatants were both suffered to retire in peace.[781] This is the last recorded instance of the wager of battle in France. The custom appears never to have been formally abolished, and so little did it represent the thoughts and feelings of the age which witnessed the Reformation, that when, in 1566, Charles IX. issued an edict prohibiting duels, no allusion was made to the judicial combat. The encounters which he sought to prevent were solely those which arose from points of honor between gentlemen, and the offended party was ordered not to appeal to the courts, but to lay his case before the Marshals of France, or the governor of his province.[782] The custom had died a natural death. No ordonnance was necessary to abrogate it; and, seemingly, from forgetfulness, the crown and the Parlement appear never to have been divested of the right to adjudge the wager of battle.

* * * * *

In Italy many causes conspired to lead to the abrogation of the judicial duel. On the one hand there were the prescriptions of the popes, and on the other the spirit of scepticism fostered by the example of Frederic II. The influence of the resuscitated Roman law was early felt and its principles were diffused by the illustrious jurists who rendered the Italian schools famous. Burgher life, moreover, was precociously developed in the social and political organization, and as the imperial influence diminished with the fall of the House of Hohenstaufen, the cities assumed self-government and fashioned their local legislation after their own ideals. The judgments of God were not indigenous in Italy; they were not ancestral customs rooted in the prehistoric past, but were foreign devices introduced by conquerors—first by the Lombards and then by the Othos. There were thus many reasons why the trial by combat should disappear early from the Italian statute books. There is no trace of it in the elaborate criminal code of Milan compiled in 1338, nor in that of Piacenza somewhat later; in fact, it was no longer needed, for the inquisitional process was in full operation and in doubtful cases the judge had all the resources of torture at his disposal.[783]

Although by the middle of the fourteenth century it had thus disappeared from the written law, the rulers retained the right to grant it in special cases, and it thus continued in existence as a lawful though extra-legal mode of settling disputed cases. Where suzerains were so numerous there was thus ample opportunity for belligerent pleaders to gratify their desires. Even as late as 1507 Giovanni Paolo Baglioni, lord of Spello (a village in the Duchy of Spoleto, near Foligno), granted a licence for a month to Giovanni Batta Gaddi and Raffaello Altoviti to settle their suits by fighting within his domain with three comrades.[784] Two years after this, Julius II., in issuing a constitution directed against duels of honor, took occasion also to include in his prohibition all such _purgationes vulgares_, even though permitted by the laws; the combatants were ordered, in all the States of the Church, to be arrested and punished for homicide or maiming according to the common law.[785] In 1519 Leo X. reissued this bull with vastly sharper penalties on all concerned, but in his additions to it he seems merely to have in mind the duel of honor, which was habitually conducted in public, in lists prepared for the purpose, and in presence of the prince or noble who had granted licence for it.[786] The legal combat may be considered to have virtually disappeared, but the duel of honor which succeeded it inherited some of its sanctions, and in the learned treatises on the subject which appeared during the first half of the sixteenth century there are still faint traces to be found of the survival of the idea of the judgment of God.[787]

In Hungary, it was not until 1486 that any attempt was made to restrict the judicial duel. In that year Matthias Corvinus prohibited it in cases where direct testimony was procurable: where such evidence was unattainable, he still permitted it, both in civil and criminal matters.[788] In 1492 Vladislas II. repeated this prohibition, alleging as his reason for the restriction the almost universal employment of champions who sometimes sold out their principals. The terms of the decree show that previously its use was general, though it is declared to be a custom unknown elsewhere.[789]

In Flanders, it is somewhat remarkable that the duel should have lingered until late in the sixteenth century, although, as we have seen above, the commercial spirit of that region had sought its abrogation at a very early period, and had been seconded by the efforts of Philippe le Bon in the fifteenth century. Damhouder, writing about the middle of the sixteenth century, states that it was still legal in matters of public concern, and even his severe training as a civil lawyer cannot prevent his declaring it to be laudable in such affairs.[790] Indeed, when the Council of Trent, in 1563, stigmatized the duel as the work of the devil and prohibited all potentates from granting it under pain of excommunication and forfeiture of all feudal possessions,[791] the state Council of Flanders, in their report to the Duchess of Parma on the reception of the Council, took exception to this canon, and decided that the ruler ought not to be deprived of the power of ordering the combat.[792] In this view, the Council of Namur agreed.[793]

In Germany, in spite of the imperial legislation referred to above (p. 212), feudal influences were too strong to permit an early abrogation of the custom. Throughout the fifteenth century the wager of battle continued to flourish, and MSS. of the period give full directions as to the details of the various procedures for patricians and plebeians. The sixteenth century saw its wane, though it kept its place in the statute books, and _Fechtbücher_ of 1543 and 1556 describe fully the use of the club and the knife. Yet when in 1535 Friedrich von Schwartzenberg demanded a judicial duel to settle a suit with Ludwig von Hutten, the latter contemptuously replied that such things might be permitted in the times of Goliath and Dietrich of Bern, but that now they were not in accordance with law, right, or custom, and von Schwartzenberg was obliged to settle the case in more peaceful fashion. Still, occasional instances of its use are said to have occurred until the close of the century,[794] and as late as 1607, Henry, Duke of Lorraine, procured from the Emperor Rodolph II. the confirmation of a privilege which he claimed as ancestral that all combats occurring between the Rhine and the Meuse should be fought out in his presence.[795]

In Russia, under the code known as the Ulogenié Zakonof, promulgated in 1498, any culprit, after his accuser’s testimony was in, could claim the duel; and as both parties went to the field accompanied by all the friends they could muster, the result was not infrequently a bloody skirmish. These abuses were put an end to by the Sudebtnick, issued in 1550, and the duel was regulated after a more decent fashion, but it continued to flourish legally until it was finally abrogated in 1649 by the Czar Alexis Mikhailovich, in the code known as the Sobornoié Ulogenié. The more enlightened branch of the Slavonic race, however, the Poles, abolished it in the fourteenth century; but Macieiowski states that in Servia and Bulgaria the custom has been preserved to the present day.[796]

In other countries, the custom likewise lingered to a comparatively late period. Scotland, indeed, was somewhat more forward than her neighbors; for in the year 1400, her Parliament showed the influence of advancing civilization by limiting the practice in several important particulars, which, if strictly observed, must have rendered it almost obsolete. Four conditions were pronounced essential prerequisites: the accusation must be for a capital crime; the offence must have been committed secretly and by treachery; reasonable cause of suspicion must be shown against the accused, and direct testimony both of witnesses and documents must be wanting.[797]

Still the “perfervidum ingenium Scotorum” clung to the arbitrament of the sword with great tenacity. In 1532 Sir James Douglass accused his son-in-law Robert Charteris of treason, and the charge was settled by a judicial duel in the presence of James V., who put an end to it when Charteris’s sword broke.[798] Knox relates that in 1562, when the Earl of Arran was consulting with him and others respecting a proposed accusation against Bothwell for high treason, arising out of a plan for seizing Queen Mary which Bothwell had suggested, the earl remarked, “I know that he will offer the combate unto me, but that would not be suffered in France, but I will do that which I have proposed.” In 1567, also, when Bothwell underwent a mock trial for the murder of Darnley, he offered to justify himself by the duel; and when the Lords of the Congregation took up arms against him, alleging as a reason the murder and his presumed designs against the infant James VI., Queen Mary’s proclamation against the rebels recites his challenge as a full disproval of the charges. When the armies were drawn up at Carberry Hill, Bothwell again came forward and renewed his challenge. James Murray, who had already offered to accept it, took it up at once, but Bothwell refused to meet him on account of the inequality in their rank. Murray’s brother, William of Tullibardin, then offered himself, and Bothwell again declined, as the Laird of Tullibardin was not a peer of the realm. Many nobles then eagerly proposed to take his place, and Lord Lindsay especially insisted on being allowed the privilege of proving the charge on Bothwell’s body, but the latter delayed on various pretexts, until Queen Mary was able to prohibit the combat.[799] The last judicial duels fought in Scotland were two which occurred as the sixteenth century was closing. In 1595, under a warrant from James VI. John Brown met George Hepburn and was vanquished, though his life was spared at the request of the judges. In 1597 Adam Bruntfield charged James Carmichael with causing the death of his brother, and under royal licence fought and slew him before a crowd of five thousand spectators. Yet even this was not the end of the legal custom, for in 1603 an accusation of treason against Francis Mowbray was adjudged to be settled by the duel, though the combat was prevented by Mowbray meeting his death in an attempt to escape from prison, after which he was duly hanged and quartered.[800]

In England, the resolute conservatism, which resists innovation to the last, prolonged the existence of the wager of battle until a period unknown in other enlightened nations. No doubt a reason for this may be found in the rise of the jury trial towards the end of the twelfth century, which, as we have seen above (p. 144), furnished an effective substitute for the combat in doubtful cases. As the jury system developed itself in both civil and criminal matters the sphere of the duel became more limited, in practice if not in theory, and its evils being thus less felt the necessity for its formal abrogation was less pressing.[801] It was thus enabled to hold its place as a recognized form of procedure to a later period than in any other civilized land. Already in the first quarter of the thirteenth century Mr. Maitland tells us that in criminal cases it had become uncommon, but the number of examples of it which he gives shows that this can only be in comparison with its greater frequency in the preceding century and that it was still in common use notwithstanding the tendency of the judges to disallow it.[802] At the close of the fourteenth century, when France was engaged in rendering it rapidly obsolete, Thomas, Duke of Gloucester, dedicated to his nephew Richard II. a treatise detailing elaborately the practice followed in the Marshal’s court with respect to judicial duels.[803] Even a century later, legislation was obtained to prevent its avoidance in certain cases. The “Statute of Gloucester” (6 Ed. II. cap. 9), in 1333, had given to the appellant a year and a day in which to bring his appeal of death—a privilege allowed the widow or next of kin to put the accused on a second trial after an acquittal on a public indictment—which, as a private suit, was usually determined by the combat. In practice, this privilege was generally rendered unavailing by postponing the public prosecution until the expiration of the delay, so as to prevent the appeal. In 1486, however, a law was passed to diminish the frequency of murder, which required the trial to be finished before the expiration of the year and day, and ordered the justices, in case of acquittal, to hold the defendant in prison or on bail until the time had passed, so as to insure to the widow or next of kin the opportunity of prosecuting the appeal of death.[804] Another evidence of the prevalence of the custom is to be found in the rule which, in the fifteenth century, permitted a priest to shrive a man who was about to wage his battle, without regard to the fact as to whose parishioner he might legally be—

And of mon that schal go fyghte In a bateyl for hys ryghte, Hys schryft also thou myghte here, Thagh he thy pareschen neuer were.[805]

With the advance of civilization and refinement, the custom gradually declined, but it was not abolished. The last duel fought out in England is said to be one in 1492 between Sir James Parker and Hugh Vaughan, arising from a grant of armorial bearings to Vaughan; it was fought on horseback with lances, and at the first course Vaughan slew his antagonist.[806] Still the old laws remained unaltered, and an occasional appeal to them, while it offended men’s common sense, was insufficient to cause their repeal. In 1571 a case occurred, as Spelman says, “non sine magna jurisconsultorum perturbatione,” when, to determine the title to an estate in Kent, Westminster Hall was forced to adjourn to Tothill Fields, and all the preliminary forms of a combat were literally enacted with the most punctilious exactness, though an accommodation between the parties saved the skulls of their champions.[807] In 1583, however, a judicial duel was actually fought in Ireland between two O’Connors on an accusation of treason brought by one against the other, which ended by the appellant cutting off the defendant’s head and presenting it on his sword’s point to the justices.[808]

A device, peculiar to the English jurisprudence, allowed a man indicted for a capital offence to turn “approver,” by confessing the crime and charging or appealing any one he choose as an accomplice, and this appeal was usually settled by the single combat. Indeed, even when a criminal had confessed he was sometimes pardoned on condition of his being victorious in a specified number of duels, and thus compounding for his own life by the service rendered to society in relieving it of so many malefactors, as in a case in 1221 where a confessed thief “became approver to fight five battles.”[809] The custom continued to be a feature of criminal jurisprudence sufficiently important to require legislation as late as the year 1599, when the Act 41 Eliz. chap. 3 was passed to regulate the nice questions which attended appeals of several persons against one, or of one person against several. In the former case, the appellee, if victorious in the first duel, was acquitted; in the latter, the appellor was obliged to fight successively with all the appellees.[810] In civil suits the last case on record, I believe, is that of Claxton _v._ Lilburn, which shows curiously enough the indisposition to put an end to what was regarded by common consent as a solecism. A valuable estate in Durham, said to be worth more than £200 a year, was the subject in dispute. Claxton had been unsuccessful in a suit for its recovery, and had brought a new action, to which Lilburn responded, Aug. 6th, 1638, by producing in court his champion, George Cheney, in array, armed with a sandbag and battoon, who cast into the court his gauntlet with five small pence in it, and demanded battle. Claxton rejoined by producing a champion similarly armed, and gaged his battle. The court was nonplussed, putting off the proceedings from day to day, and seeking some excuse for refusing the combat. The champions were interrogated, and both admitted that they were hired for money. King Charles demanded the opinion of the Chief Justice and all his barons whether this was sufficient to invalidate the proceedings, but they unanimously replied that after battle was gaged and sureties given, such confession was no bar to its being carried out. The King then ordered his judges if possible to find some just way for its prevention, but they apparently could do nothing save procrastinate the matter for years, for in 1641 Lilburn petitioned the Long Parliament, setting forth that he had repeatedly claimed his right of battle and had produced his champion, but was ever put off by the judges finding some error in the record. Parliament thereupon ordered a bill to be brought in taking away the judicial combat.[811] It was not enacted however, and Sir Matthew Hale, writing towards the close of the century, feels obliged to describe with considerable minuteness the various niceties of the law, though he is able to speak of the combat as “an unusual trial at this day.”[812]

In 1774, the subject incidentally attracted attention in a manner not very creditable to the enlightenment of English legislation. When, to punish the rebellious Bostonians for destroying the obnoxious tea, a “Bill for the improved administration of justice in the province of Massachusetts Bay” was passed, it originally contained a clause depriving the New Englanders of the appeal of death, by which, it will be remembered, a man acquitted of a charge of murder could be again prosecuted by the next of kin, and the question could be determined by the wager of battle. The denial of this ancestral right aroused the indignation of the liberal party in the House of Commons, and the point was warmly contested. The learned and eloquent Dunning, afterwards Lord Ashburton, one of the leaders of opposition, defended the ancient custom in the strongest terms. “I rise,” said he, “to support that great pillar of the constitution, the appeal for murder; I fear there is a wish to establish a precedent for taking it away in England as well as in the colonies. It is called a remnant of barbarism and gothicism. The whole of our constitution, for aught I know, is gothic.... I wish, sir, that gentlemen would be a little more cautious, and consider that the yoke we are framing for the despised colonists may be tied round our own necks!” Even Burke was heard to lift a warning voice against the proposed innovation, and the obnoxious clause had to be struck out before the ministerial majority could pass the bill.[813] Something was said about reforming the law throughout the empire, but it was not done, and the beauty of the “great pillar of the constitution,” the appeal of death, was shown when the nineteenth century was disgraced by the resurrection of all the barbaric elements of criminal jurisprudence. In 1818, the case of Ashford _vs._ Thornton created much excitement. Ashford was the brother of a murdered girl, whose death, under circumstances of peculiar atrocity, was charged upon Thornton, with much appearance of probability. Acquitted on a jury trial, Thornton was appealed by Ashford, when he pleaded “Not guilty, and I am ready to defend the same by my body.” After elaborate argument, Lord Ellenborough, with the unanimous assent of his brother justices, sustained the appellee’s right to this as “the usual and constitutional mode of trial,” expounding the law in almost the same terms as those which we read in Bracton and Beaumanoir.[814] The curious crowd was sorely disappointed when the appellant withdrew, and the chief justice was relieved from the necessity of presiding over a gladiatorial exhibition. A similar case occurred almost simultaneously in Ireland, and the next year the Act 59 Geo. III. chap. 46, at length put an end to this remnant of Teutonic barbarism.[815]

* * * * *

America, inheriting the blessings of English law, inherited also its defects. The colonies enjoyed the privilege of the appeal of death, against the abrogation of which, in the province of Massachusetts Bay, Dunning protested so vehemently. At least one instance of its employment is to be found here, when in 1765, in Maryland, Sarah Soaper appealed a negro slave named Tom for the murder of her husband. The negro, however, was probably not aware of his privilege to demand the wager of battle, so he submitted to be tried by a jury, and was duly condemned and executed.[816] John C. Gray, Jr., Esq., of Boston, to whom I am indebted for calling my attention to this and some other sources of information on the subject, informs me of a tradition that a disputed question of boundary between two townships in New Hampshire was once settled by combat between champions; but the most conservative State in this respect appears to be South Carolina. An act of that colony, in 1712, enumerating the English laws to be held in force, specifically includes those concerning appeal of death, and Dr. Cooper, in his “Statutes at Large of South Carolina,” writing in 1837, seems to think that both the wager of battle and appeal of death were still legally in force there at that time.[817] So Chancellor Kilty, in his Report on English Statutes applicable to Maryland, made in 1811, apparently considers that the appeal of death was still legally existent, but regards it as unimportant in view of the pardoning power and other considerations.[818]

III.

THE ORDEAL.